I Wouldn't Be His Wife If You Bribed Me With Food
by friendlyneighborhoodfairy
Summary: (Nonbinary Month #6) Lord Freed and his secret lover the Marquess Dreyar notice a pair of younger lords being far too affectionate in public. They attempt to protect them with some sage advice, and find out there's more to Natsu and Gray than meets the eye. {Fraxus, Erlu, and Gratsu in a Victorian AU.}
1. I Wouldn't Be His Wife If You Bribed Me

**A/N:** Fairy Tail + trans man. Victorian AU, just for kicks.

I kept laughing every time I put lady/lord in front of their names. Felt so ooc.

* * *

 **I Wouldn't Be His Wife If You Bribed Me With Food**

Freed found Laxus and touched his sleeve.

"Those are the boys," he murmured.

Laxus glanced over his shoulder. Freed tried not to be too close in public, but he leaned in to whisper.

"The dark-haired scowl-y one and the cheerful one with the plate."

"Standing too close." Laxus snorted softly. "They stick out like an untimely whitestaff."

Freed coughed to cover his laughter, face going pink. Laxus loved making making anatomical references at the worst times—like when they were at the Countess's Michaelmas party surrounded by anybody who had a name worth anything.

"Erza did say we needed to 'have a word' with them," Freed said. "Her exact phrasing."

"I can see why."

Laxus sighed, but Freed knew he wasn't as vexed as he sounded. Really, the vexation covered up fear on the young men's behalf.

"Maybe after the night's a bit older, we can—" Freed began, but Laxus strode over in the young men's direction.

"Or now," Freed grumbled.

He followed along in Laxus's wake, head high, used to this: to pretending—no, _knowing_ he belonged here with Laxus, to acting like he knew what he was doing, like he was in the right. It had gotten easier when he realized he _was_ in the right. That _they_ —all of the people out there flirting and sucking up and marrying off—were the ones in the wrong about it, and that this, this love, this loyalty, this affection, was right and good and lovely.

Natural.

"Evening," Laxus said, inclining his head. "The Honorable Gray Fullbuster, is it?"

To the boys' credit, they didn't stammer and stare, as many did. Marquess Dreyar took pleasure in speaking to people without a proper introduction, and reactions to the sudden intrusion were widespread. A lady had shattered her teacup in surprise once. Laxus still joked about it.

"My lord." Lord Gray bowed. It took him a brief second to get his tongue, then he said, "My companion is Lord Natsu Igneel, son of my father's business partner in Rome."

Another baron: the boys were the same station. That was good news for the pair.

"My friend Lord Freed, son of Viscount Justine." Laxus waved a hand vaguely in Freed's direction, and the young men nodded to him.

Everyone knew of Freed. Everyone knew the man whom Marquess Dreyar had for some reason incorporated into his inner circle and took with him almost everywhere. Laxus might be proud and unpredictable and so striking a friendship with someone he oughtn't to be friends with was his prerogative; but Freed, in their eyes, was simply greedy—had groveled his way into power. People knew who he was and they hated it. They would hate _Freed_ if he weren't so clearly in Laxus's graces. Instead, they hated him behind his back, and to his face sucked up to him as well.

Luckily, Freed had never had many friends. And he'd faced much worse hatred than mere jealousy.

But the boys must not have heard that end of gossip, for they both smiled at him as if sincerely pleased by the acquaintance.

"How long are you with us, Lord Igneel?" Laxus asked.

"A while, I hope."

A little edge of anxiety appeared in the corners of Lord Fullbuster's eyes.

"He's finishing his final year at my public school with me," Lord Fullbuster interjected, trying to sound light. "I was assigned the job of introducing him to society before the beginning of the semester."

And there it was: the tiny shared smile that passed between them.

 _Not so obvious,_ Freed begged. His heart ached for them. They couldn't be like this.

Laxus turned the conversation to mundane things. The pale-haired Lord Igneel smiled often, even with someone as high and mighty as Laxus, which was surprisingly refreshing. He had an easy disposition and told jokes that walked the line between polite and ribald.

Lord Igneel also had a voracious appetite. He finished off his plate and at the first opportunity snagged another.

Music struck up in the largest hall, drawing young and single people like moths. The usual cue.

"Do you play cards?" Laxus asked.

"Sounds lovely," Lord Igneel replied, and they were just turning when a blonde bounced into their midst. Short, round, and pink-cheeked.

"Don't forget about me," Lucy said, hanging on Laxus's arm.

Laxus grumbled and rolled his eyes.

"My sister," he said. "Lucy Heartfilia."

" _Lady_ Lucy," she added, shooting Laxus the stink-eye while she held out her hand to the young men.

"Lady…Heartfilia?" Lord Natsu asked.

"Oh! You're not from around here?" Lucy asked.

Lord Igneel shook his head.

"Different mother," Laxus explained.

"My mother is Duchess Layla," Lucy said, smiling proudly. "Which means when I inherit my title, I'll be above my darling brother and _I'll_ get to be the grouchy one."

"Lady Lucy," Freed sighed. "Could you…be more discrete? And not hurt our new friends' constitutions?"

"They can handle it. Can't you, my lords?" She beamed at them. "Anyway, what was this about cards, Laxus?"

"We can't play with five," Laxus told her. "Go fritter around with your friend."

By which he meant: go make out with your lady friend. Freed nearly hit him in exasperation. The siblings had argued a few days before, and Laxus dared her to kiss her lady while at the party—in secret, of course, but still.

Freed had gone to her later and begged her not to be so stupid and insisted Laxus wouldn't want her to be, either. He wasn't sure she'd listened.

"I'm not going to play with you, silly. I'm going to watch and commentate. Come on!"

Taking Laxus's arm, Lady Lucy led the way, through the card room and into a study. Lord Igneel, whose plate of hors d'oeuvres was empty, set it on a table and grabbed a full one from a passing servant on their way.

"Where is this?" Lord Fullbuster asked as they all sat down.

"The Countess's library," Lucy said, sinking into a chair and pulling out a stack of cards. "Nobody ever comes in here during her parties: I think they find books boring."

Freed hmphed indignantly.

"I like it. Finally some quiet," Laxus sighed. "I hate playing cards surrounded by crowds."

"I'd have to agree," Lord Fullbuster said.

"Aw, but people are fun," Lord Igneel grinned. Freed had the sudden feeling that if the pair became their friends, he'd have to watch the man for pranks.

Freed had nearly clicked the door shut when a hand thrust through it and Erza pushed her way in.

"Evening, Lord Freed," she said grinning.

He sighed. "Lady Erza."

"That's _your all-powerful greatness, Lady Erza of the sword_ to you," she teased.

She'd beaten him at swords last week—they usually tied. He had a feeling he was never, ever going to live it down. Even Laxus, two nights ago, had panted in his ear, "you like being impaled, don't you?" which had made Freed _quite_ energetic that night (which had probably been the point). Laxus could be wonderfully infuriating sometimes.

"Lord Natsu! Lord Gray! I see you're making friends," Erza said, coming and perching on the chair beside them. "My mother's library is the best place to get away from a party."

"So familiar," Freed grumbled under his breath. They wouldn't have listened had they heard. Laxus, Lucy, and Erza had all grown up with parents who gave them lots of rein and had enough money to throw at indiscretions. They had never had to wield politeness as a tool of survival.

Lucy dealt, and since she looked so excited, Freed bowed out and let her play. Instead, he watched their two new friends: they sat close enough on the sofa they could easily bump elbows if they gestured wide. Too obvious, too at ease in front of people they didn't know. They didn't get it, or were too wrapped up in each to realize yet that this was serious.

Touch had to come later, when you were alone. Or else the world fell apart and you might never get to touch each other again.

There was also something about Lord Igneel which made Freed uncomfortable, and he couldn't put his finger on it. The man sat with legs spread, shoulders rolled forward; he laughed often and loudly; he ate constantly; he was…covering for something. Freed couldn't figure out what it was.

And despite the fact that Lord Fullbuster was more high-strung, there were times when he pounced into the conversation with sudden bravado. Freed couldn't for the life of him find the pattern.

"Alright, I'm done," Lucy said as the game ended. "Lord Freed, you shuffle."

"So," Laxus said, leaning back. (Freed thought, _here we go._ ) "Does Baron Igneel know you're here?"

The pair on the sofa went more alert immediately. Lord Igneel even put down his food. (They had instincts for danger, at least.)

"Of course my father knows," he laughed, feigning confusion.

"How long have you two been together?" Laxus asked.

Silence dropped. Only the cards flipping through Freed's fingers made a noise.

"What—?"

"Perhaps you can beat my sister," Laxus said, lips quirking up. "She and Lady Erza have carried on almost two years."

"Laxus!" Lucy squeaked. "How dare you throw me under the carriage? You've been with Lord Freed far longer."

Despite everything, Freed felt himself flush red.

"Hush," he said sharply. "We don't have to discuss this here."

"It's fine," Erza said from the door. She turned the lock. "See? Just us. Say what you like: my mother's study is sound-proof enough we could commit murder in here without anyone knowing."

Freed threw her a glare, but their new friends didn't even flinch at the off-color joke.

"You're… You…?" Lord Natsu stammered. Lord Gray took his hand.

"Yes," Laxus said.

"How did you know?" Lord Gray asked. Lord Natsu appeared to have lost his voice to shock.

"You're obvious," Freed and Erza said at the same time. Freed added, "Too obvious."

"Shit—I mean, augh, sorry," Lord Gray said, turning red and glancing at the ladies.

Erza shrugged and Lucy gave him an unimpressed stare. "You're really going to stand on ceremony now?"

"I just…" Lord Natsu said.

And now his anxiety came rushing in, very obvious. Lord Gray snapped straight and gave him a solemn nod of courage.

"I thought we escaped my father," Lord Natsu breathed.

"Who says you haven't?" Laxus rumbled.

"But if people can tell…"

"You're safe," Lucy said coming and sitting on the other end of the sofa, hand stretched toward him in concern. "What did he do?"

"Do? Nothing yet," Lord Natsu said darkly. "But according to him, he doesn't have a son."

Someone inhaled sharply. It wasn't until Laxus looked over that Freed realized it was him.

He tried to compose himself, but the words hit too near dark memories, making his breath shake out of him. When he tried to shuffle, cards flipped onto the carpet.

"My father said the same thing," Laxus said slowly, the words drawn out with difficulty as he watched his lover. "After he tried to kill Freed."

The silence was, if possible, even more absolute. Laxus didn't say vulnerable things. Laxus wasn't a vulnerable person. Everyone in their little group just _knew._ No one talked about it.

Laxus's father had caught the pair of them. In Laxus's rooms. Joined together, naked, unmistakable, a thing they could not explain away even with the thinnest of lies. The then-Marquess grabbed Freed and threw him bodily to the floor, Freed's head slamming into the wall hard enough to shock his body into stillness. Freed had thought the world was ending. Through the cave of his vision, he could see one person: Laxus, for the first time that Freed had ever seen him, looked terrified.

Lord Ivan had yelled wordless sounds. While the black was still clearing from the edges of Freed's sight, fingers had wrapped around his neck. They'd squeezed. Crushing the life and air out of him. Until Laxus slammed his own father into the wall and the fingers disappeared, leaving Freed to gasp and pant and fight the pounding in his brain.

"Don't touch him," Laxus said. That's all he'd said.

But Ivan had his own voice back, and even if his son was stronger than he, he had words which hurt, words which destroyed, words like, "I have never been as disappointed in anyone as I am in you."

Like, "I wish I'd never tupped your stupid mother."

Like, "I have no son."

And then, as Laxus stepped back—preparing to carry Freed from the house and run away and never look back—his father clutched his chest, gasped, and slowly crumpled to the floor.

Laxus stood there in shock and watched him die.

Just like that, it was over.

Freed had panic attacks just entering Laxus's rooms for weeks afterward, had double- and triple-checked the lock whenever they were together, had barely been able to let Laxus touch him.

But he'd relearned safety. And they _were_ safe now. Laxus was the Marquess, and though the Duchess remained at the house after her husband's death, it was not her estate and she could not tell Laxus what to do. Nor had Layla ever tried to control her husband's son anyway. Freed had a sneaking suspicion that she knew about her children's preferences and simply didn't care. She was the type, unlike Lord Ivan, who wanted her children to be happy.

Laxus told Lucy the story in bits and pieces in the days after their father's burial, and she'd clearly told Erza some of the story, and Lady Cana and the Strausses likewise. But—

"Tried—to kill you?" Erza asked, staring at Freed.

Freed rubbed his neck.

"It was a long time ago," he whispered.

Laxus did the unthinkable. In front of all of them, he put a hand over his partner's clammy one and squeezed gently.

Inhaling, Freed squeezed back.

"N-Not a son?" Natsu stammered. "But then…?"

"He would've cut me off," Laxus explained. "But he died before he could."

"Oh."

A glance passed between Lord Natsu and Lord Gray, and Freed saw it: there it was, the thing that the rest of them didn't know.

"It's…different for us," Lord Gray said. "Our fathers would _make_ us marry. But…"

"Make you—?!" Lucy exclaimed.

"But I wouldn't be his wife if you bribed me with food," Lord Natsu growled. "I won't be anyone's wife. I will never act to their rules again."

A beat.

"Wife?" Erza asked.

"He's…he's…" Lord Gray floundered. "He's…special."

Lord Natsu hung his head. "I'm unnatural," he whispered.

"You are _not_ ," Freed snarled, with sudden vehemence. "I don't care who you are or what you do. Lord Igneel, or whatever your name is, you are exactly who you are supposed to be."

The pair stared at Freed like he'd gone crazy, but then something like a smile edged up Natsu's lips like yellow on the horizon.

"Thank you, my lord. And it's Dragneel, my true name. But the Igneels are distant with a dozen children who dispersed across the globe, so no one will question this name."

"Good," Erza said. "That's important."

"This is the last place my father would look for me, anyway," Lord Natsu said. "He hates London."

"We've rigged things to our benefit as much as we can," Lord Gray said. "We're even rooming on the same floor at the college. I'll be close if anything…you know."

"Lord Natsu, how do you—?" Lucy pinked. "Sorry."

"Carefully," Lord Natsu admitted, also pink. "It's been hard."

"You'll get the hang of it," Erza said, comforting in her blithe way. "I've dressed up as a man more times than I can count: so much more freedom. It's easy to make a bulge. The main trick is binding up the diddeys."

"Bulge…di-d-" Lord Gray looked pale.

"Lady Erza, kindly restrain your language," Freed said with a scowl.

"You might be his lover, my lord, but you can't tell me what to do," she said austerely. "Especially not after you lost to me."

"Erza," Lucy chided, but Laxus hand put a hand over his mouth, clearly trying not to laugh.

"Anyway," Erza went on, "yes, the diddeys, the ruby-tipped globes, whatever word you want to use, you rig them up—"

Lord Gray fainted.

"Oh dear," Erza said. "Not a very strong constitution?"

"His constitution is fine," Lord Natsu grumbled. "There's just never been anyone to talk about these things with and…"

He was blushing again.

Freed rose swiftly and started pacing. Apparently the young lords were part of their group now. Not that he hadn't expected this.

Lord Gray came to with a shake of his head and a feeble apology.

"No, it was our mistake," Lucy said kindly. Reaching over, she touched Lord Natsu's arm and, when he didn't flinch, nodded toward the corner of the room and drew him away.

"Lord Natsu," Freed heard her say, "has anyone ever taught you about protecting the cunny?"

"Protecting…w-what?"

"Come now. You know what can happen, don't you? When your lover…my brother calls it the warm gush? Anyway, you don't want to get with child from joining."

"Um, right," Natsu swallowed. What Freed took for awkwardness was bowled over by sincerity. "Do I have to stretch it before we join? Is there any way to stop the monthly? How _do_ we protect against children? I'm sorry: I've never talked with anyone about this…"

"Oh God, they are so innocent," Freed murmured. Beside him, Laxus smiled.

"Oh, we have so much to talk about," Lucy fretted. "And the back avenue, too. Some people prefer that. The point is, you must be gentle with your body and know what it needs."

"Help," Natsu asked plaintively.

"Why do you think I'm dragging you away from your boyfriend's hearing? Also, did anyone ever tell you," Lucy got a mischievous look in her eyes, "that _you_ can swive _him?_ Just need the right…hm, apparatus."

Freed was glad when they walked fully out of earshot. Though Erza had engaged him in a different conversation, Lord Gray was still looking a bit, well, grey. Lucy was right: he should probably not hear this. It would be much better coming alone from his beloved in the privacy of their rooms, wrapped in his lover's arms. The place where Laxus had taught Freed these things so long ago.

"You're safe here," Laxus rumbled, startling Freed. His beloved was gazing at Gray with a piercing insistence. "No one will find out the truth from us, and we're quite adept at lying. Why do you think we're all still standing here, unshamed by society?"

Gray swallowed and nodded. "Thank you."

"Laxus," Erza sighed, "I hate to bring this up, but we should go be seen dancing together."

"Why you?" Gray asked in curiosity.

"We're heirs to large amounts of money and supposed to find people to marry," Erza told him.

Gray choked. "Pardon?"

"Unlike Her Future Grace over there," Laxus motioned at Lucy, who was giggling with Natsu in the corner, "even I can't get out of this requirement. For now, we put on appearances. We'll figure out something."

"My mother's husband died after six months," Erza mused. "I'm hoping to do something similar. And then I can throw my widowed, mourning self at my best friend and nobody will ask why we spend so much time together."

She looked over at Lucy, a special smile in her eyes.

"I don't want to dance," Laxus said petulantly. "Maybe Freed can…"

"Nope," Freed insisted. "If I dance with Lady Erza, she and I will _both_ be hated for it. And you have to be seen pretending to go wife-hunting."

"Ugh," Laxus said. "I don't want a wife."

Rising, Erza held out a hand to him. "Come on, oaf. Let's get this over with."

"Don't forget to look happy," Freed teased, going and opening the door.

Erza stuck her tongue out as she passed, while Laxus made a face; but he paused in the doorway to look Freed up and down, smiling.

"I know what to think about to make me look happy," Laxus rumbled softly, hand brushing Freed's cheek. Then he closed the door behind him. Locking it, Freed leaned against it and sighed.

"For a long time, then?" Gray asked.

"Yes." Returning to the sofas, Freed sat across from him. "Years and years. Since you were mere children."

"It's good to hear that," Gray murmured. "That it can last. That it's possible to not get caught… I didn't know anyone else like us."

"Oh, we know _lots_ like us. Half a dozen others besides us. Lucy has a private house party once a month for everyone, secretly calls it the fairy party. You'll be invited to the next."

Gray blinked back emotion. "Thank you. I know you don't have to."

"We want to," Freed said. "Seeing you… Look, I remember what it was like when we were younger. And getting caught by his father, and the fear… I understand. I saw you and I thought you should get your shot at thriving. You just needed a little help."

"Or a lot," Gray admitted with a self-conscious laugh.

"Or a lot," Freed conceded. "It's brave of you both, but especially of him."

"He saved my life," Gray said, smile rising on his face. "That's how we met. He'd snuck out of the house to dress as himself—wander the parts of town he isn't recognized and be himself, you know? And I…picked the wrong, um, brothel. There was nowhere else to go for my proclivities; but a young lord with money was too much temptation. They attacked me and I managed to slip out a window. Fell in the dirt right at his feet. He grabbed my hand and started running—kept me from getting caught. He told me later it was because I had the most beautiful face he'd ever seen." Gray grinned. "He's a sappy romantic."

Freed found himself grinning back. "That is sweet. Not as insane as how the Marquess and I met."

"What happened?"

"He was very drunk, up late at a party less composed than this one, and it had gotten late. I had slipped off to the library to read and…potentially nap—too much wine makes me sleepy. He stumbled in looking to get away from people. And he…walked right up and kissed me."

"What?" Gray squawked.

"Right on the mouth," Freed laughed. "The door was wide open, too: anyone might've seen. But they didn't. And I was just uninhibited enough to decide I wanted to keep going…"

Chuckling, he shook his head.

"The next day I was appalled, thought I'd lose my place in society, thought he'd tell the whole world I liked men; but he sent me a letter asking if he could see me. And…we realized we were the same."

Freed looked over at Lord Gray.

"I sometimes wonder if it'll ever get better—if there will ever be, say, some underground place where we can gather and meet. Because finding someone is luck, luck, and more luck. You have to fall into their arms, or out a window at their feet, in order to find each other."

"True, and maybe one day we will be free." Gray grinned. "For now, it makes for good stories."

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 **A/N:** I had fun with the language lol. It felt weird making Lucy and Laxus siblings, but I kinda had to, and then it ended up working.

I love Natsu getting sex ed/advice from Lucy. And Gray fainting lol. Next chapter will have smut.


	2. I Love Him Even When I'm Starving

**A/N:** While chapter 1 was rated T, this chapter is explicit. ^_~ Gotta have my lovely trans smut.

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 **I** **Love Him Even When I'm Starving**

Lord Natsu, second child of Baron Dragneel, did not expect to find himself in such a position.

He hadn't meant for it to go this way, honestly. After Lady Lucy filled his head with everything he needed to know (and more) about bodies and their fitting together, he'd intended to mull it over. To tell his beloved in dribs and drabs, and maybe, if the pair of them could actually get the words out, have a discussion. When the time actually came, he'd intended to go slow, to have it be a careful discovery.

And indeed, they would have such slow discovery later. That was not what was happening right now.

With all the thoughts about bodies and Gray and self-care and Gray and joining and _Gray,_ Natsu was riled up. His heart needed little inducement to increase to a racehorse's gallop. His fingers itched to touch and do all the things that were now bounding around his mind.

And so when they entered Gray's carriage at the end of the night, Natsu was already eager, reaching for his hand as soon as the door closed. As it pulled forward and the inside of the carriage was cast in darkness, he crossed the space between them and found Gray's mouth.

It was a long kiss full of warm promise.

Gray groaned beneath his lips, hands instantly going to Natsu's sides. With Natsu leaning in kiss him harder, a bump made them jostle together lengthwise, and Natsu swung his leg over Gray's thighs, pinning him. Their bodies entwined with a fluid move that was more natural than air.

"Wow," Gray gasped out. "Wow."

Natsu didn't stop kissing him.

They'd kissed many times, but this was a new fervor. Natsu's fingers were eager against the constraint of Gray's clothes, slipping beneath his jacket, tugging at the fabric of his shirt. Gray helped, pulling out his cravat with uncanny speed.

"We can always say it was a particularly wild party," Gray gasped out, grinning.

"Not that your father will pay us mind," Natsu said. In the years since his wife's death, Baron Fullbuster had receded ever more into himself, until nothing but drink could bring him out.

With access to Gray's throat, Natsu moved his kisses lower, reveling in that warm skin, in how Gray groaned whenever Natsu's lips touched him. His adam's apple bobbed and he let out a debauched sound.

Gray's hands had found Natsu's face, caressing his cheek, sliding into his (deliciously short) hair. For a moment, Natsu paused, inhaled with shaky emotion as Gray gently brushed his face, touched the edges of a secret scar, cupped his face and made a hum of happy affection.

By God, Natsu cared about this man. He would be happy to be dirt poor and have Gray hold him so tenderly every night.

Amid that warmth, Natsu found his body moving against Gray's, undulating, seeking something. Groaning, Gray jerked against him in small, scared, excited movements. When Natsu mounted him more fully and kissed him again, it quickly burst into a passionate scramble again, rushing, rushing toward an unvoiced goal.

"Mm, Gray," Natsu panted. "Touch me."

"We only have twenty minutes."

"More like fifteen."

"That can be enough," Gray breathed against his neck. "If…if…"

"Touch me, Gray," Natsu said with certainty. He was ready.

Deft as Gray had been getting himself unrigged, he was careful feeling his way around Natsu's body: sliding fingers down his neck, down to his rump, over the inside of his thigh.

And that was where Natsu felt it go trembling through him: the center of the storm, coming from a single point.

Taking Gray's hand, he guided him between his legs. Gray's eyes were impossibly wide as he stared into Natsu's face, hand grinding where Natsu showed him and mouth falling open in a little gasp when he saw how much this affected Natsu. Natsu shut his eyes and moaned.

"There is…right there—" Natsu cut himself off by diving for Gray's lips, as eager as if he might devour him.

"I want to feel," Gray stammered, his lip caught in Natsu's teeth. He clarified his words by working at Natsu's belt and making a sound of question. Natsu hummed the affirmative and kissed him harder.

By now Natsu's nerves were jumping. Gray pulled back cloth, reached his fingers beneath all the layers to touch Natsu's very skin.

His bare fingertips slid over Natsu's flesh and Natsu gasped.

This...this was what it meant to be connected.

Gray carressed him, unskilled but finding a rhythm as Natsu shifted, until he was brushing his fingers over a spot of pleasure Natsu hadn't known his body possessed.

As Gray made exquisite sounds of yearning into his mouth, Natsu felt his heart fluttering faster than a bird. He was surely flying. He'd stumbled onto the most handsome man by total accident, had rescued him, had fallen for him, had kissed him and found a way to join their lives far away in distant England. And now that man wanted him, wanted his _body,_ whatever there was to it. Even these parts.

Nobody had ever wanted Natsu's body before, least of all Natsu himself. But Gray loved him. That was clear as day.

Feeling Gray's hands flashed hot through his body. Gray's free hand had risen up Natsu's back, cupping his head and caressing through his hair. Natsu had both hands inside the front of Gray's shirt, touching his chest frantically, feeling sweat and the rapid rise and fall.

Seeking more stimulation, he thrust down against the lap he straddled, finding something hard coming to meet him. It startled Natsu but didn't scare him, because he knew about this—hypothetically, and then Lucy explained in _detail_ —and to his surprise, it made his excitement increase. Because this was the part of Gray that mirrored his own center which Gray currently fingered, and this stiff mast was reacting to him—to Natsu's body, and to getting to kiss him, and to the sounds he made, and to being able to physically please him.

Though this body of his did not have a staff of its own, Gray's body had risen to meet him anyway: yearned for him, desired him. Did not hold back.

Natsu thrust down against that hardness and Gray went fluid, muscles contracting and everything in his body pulling toward the point of contact.

Through their clashing lips they found a rhythm, rapid and heated. Natsu felt about to boil. When Gray's hand became a hindrance, he removed it from Natsu's trousers and caressed his cheek with affection, Natsu smelling himself on Gray's fingers.

Gray must have smelled it too, for he brought his hand to his face, inhaled long and desperately, and then, with a glance at Natsu, furtively licked his fingers.

Gray groaned and closed his eyes.

And that was it for Natsu, watching Gray enjoy him—it was too much. Pressing against Gray's body, he dissolved. Pleasure hit that central part of him, exploded, and rippled through him until every fibre vibrated to his lover's frequency.

Gray held him through it, sharp and steady as Natsu rocked through the remaining pleasure. It seemed to go on and on, and Gray was right there under his skin, gazing into his eyes, sharing every second.

"Gray," he heard himself panting, "Gray, Grayyy…"

"Oh," Gray gasped, and he stiffened, mouth falling open. He panted like all air had left him, squeezing Natsu's hips in a vice-like grip. "Natsu," he whimpered, and then the tension in his body snapped.

Gray was impossibly taut for a moment, shaking, before he sagged against seat, beatific smile transforming his face. Natsu memorized every little sound that came from his mouth. He brushed his fingers over Gray's bare chest. He had done this: had made a mess of Gray Fullbuster. Had seen the heights with him, too.

"I didn't know," Natsu murmured. "I didn't know it would feel like that."

"Me neither. Like _that_. I didn't know."

Gray had joined with people before: Natsu knew this—he'd met Gray outside a well-disguised house for gentlemen who liked gentlemen, after all. But there was an honest surprise in Gray's eyes, outmatched only by his affection.

"Like what?" Natsu asked, wanting to hear it.

"Like paradise," Gray whispered. "Like I want to love you forever."

Grinning, Natsu kissed him, gentle now, and Gray returned it.

They only pulled away when the carriage turned down the drive—so little time had passed, and yet an infinity had passed between them. Quickly they returned clothes to the proper order as much as they could, and were giggling like idiots, sitting on opposite benches, when the door opened.

Disheveled and unruly they snuck into the manor, laughing (in any servant's eyes) as the drunk do, but it wasn't drunkenness. They stumbled to Gray's sitting room and shut the door, innocent, and from there it was a short distance to the bedroom, the loss of all clothing, and wonder.

* * *

Much would go on in that room, on that bed. Furtive, ravenous intimacies stolen together with roaming hands and admonishments to keep quiet; slow and languid exchanges when the world fell away and nothing else mattered but their joy; the awed exhilaration of having your partner staring down at you, lying atop you, moving in unimaginable ways which remind you how completely you are in love with this beautiful person and wish you could join forever.

But there would also be days when Natsu, wet and panting while Gray sucked at intimate parts of him, would start to feel not himself. When he would grow moody, and eventually pull Gray away, back up the bed, and into his arms.

The first few times, Gray tried to hold him, to offer comfort, but that backfired spectacularly, made Natsu feel even more that his skin did not fit. Instead, he needed to simply hold Gray in his arms, possessing but not possessed, and remember he was not powerless: he was enough for his lover.

Some days when it hit, Natsu would grow aggressively passionate, pushing his beloved down and pulling out of him a storm of heaves, feeling empowered by what he could do—and Gray did not usually complain, though occasionally he exercised his veto power and asked instead for cuddles; he too had needs.

On other days, Gray would coax him out of that hollow place with words, reminders, acknowledgements of who Natsu was, regardless of his body or regardless of his parents' opinions.

Gray would discover at some point a very important word for when Natsu grew dysphoric while intimate: "my lord."

Gray would groan it while Natsu bent him over the chair and probed his roundmouth with now-experienced fingers. He'd say it with heated voice while he ground his body across the hot, moist heaven between Natsu's legs. In those rare times when Natsu let Gray into his body, Gray would cry it out with muffled exclamation, begging, for Natsu was always in charge of those encounters: "Please, my lord, please, I want…"

The euphoria would hit the men together and for one perfect moment, the world stopped moving.

There, in the agony of bliss, somehow Gray was able to find him, and Natsu was able to find himself. It was that—that confidence in his self and his body—which kept Natsu standing as tall and proud as ever, sure in self-knowledge and supported in love.

Arriving at their flat, a rented place in town like typical fops, Natsu would press Gray to the door, lick his lips, and say, "I'm starving for you."

"My lord," Gray would say. "Please have whatever you want."

* * *

 **A/N:** I spent far too much time looking up archaic sex terminology and laughing at their creativity.

I dunno what the fuck this AU is, victorian? regency? but I had a blast writing it and may set more drabbles in this AU.


End file.
